Flickers in the Darkness Part Two You Came for Me
by AJMM1
Summary: YOU CAME FOR ME; Flickers in the Darkness ((PART TWO TO PART ONE TITLED: REALIZATIONS from Catching Fire) PART TWO TITLED:YOU CAME FOR ME; FLICKERS IN THE DARKNESS TAKES PLACE DURING MOCKINGJAY FROM PAGE 27-28 Katniss just finds out Peeta is still alive after watching the first interview between Peeta and Caesar broadcast from the Capitol.


PART TWO:

YOU CAME FOR ME; Flickers in the Darkness

((PART TWO TO PART ONE TITLED: _REALIZATIONS_ from Catching Fire)

PART TWO

TITLED:_YOU CAME FOR ME; FLICKERS IN THE DARKNESS_

TAKES PLACE DURING MOCKINGJAY FROM PAGE 27-28

Katniss just finds out Peeta is still alive after watching the first interview between Peeta and Caesar broadcast from the Capitol.

"_You're alive," I whisper, pressing my palms against me cheeks, feeling the smile that's so wide it must look like a grimace. Peeta's alive. And a traitor. But at the moment, I don't care. Not what he says, or who he says it for, only that he is still capable of speech. _

_After a while, the door opens and someone slips in. Gale slides down beside me, his nose trickling blood... [After their conversation] Whatever the case I have someone to tell my secrets to again._

"Gale I have something to talk to you... " I say...

Chapter:1

Clearing the Air

"I need to tell you the truth Gale. I'm getting ripped apart... It's not right... Everybody hurting because of me..." I'm on the verge of hysterics. Now that I start the talk, I don't really want to go through with it.

"All right then, what truth?" Gale's not going to let me off the hook.

I take a deep breath and begin with the whole idea of Peeta and the star crossed lovers theme. That I thought he was doing it just to make me look weak. How angry I was until I learned he honestly felt that way and learned that his time with the Careers was just a front so he could keep me protected. Gale stays silent through it all.

"When they announced district players could team up and I found him, after our spent time in the cave... I started to understand what was really going on. We saved each others lives several times... and the feelings... they were just so intense. Once we got back to 12 and the cameras went away," I hitch in breath. "I was left trying to pick up what remained of my existence. I was all confused. Nothing was right anywhere, with anything," My eyes dropped. "I couldn't sort out what I felt for you from what I felt for him and it hurt me seeing both of you upset. But before I even had the chance, everything just blew up in my face, your whipping, Snow's threats, the tour, then the announcement for the Quell... Gale, please forgive me. Before the Quell I knew I was in love with Peeta and I knew I wasn't making it out of the arena a second time. So, Peeta and I had our own toasting ceremony."

"What!?" Gale retorts.

I'm trying to undo the damage. "Please understand, I do love you, it's just..."

"It's just you love Peeta more." He's angry at first, but then he says with finality "I had no prior claims to you Katniss. I've been unfair. It was so obvious how much you felt for him when you came back. All it was on my part was jealousy, just like that time when Darius had flirted with you, Now don't get me wrong, I meant it when I said that I love you... but I can love you more by letting you follow your heart without acting injured or wounded to try and make you suffer with guilt. I've been wrong. I just wanted to see what would work out, if what had happened between you and Peeta was real or just for the cameras. You've proven it is very real, and that not only does he feel that way about you, you feel that way about him."

I just stare at Gale, thankful that my best friend really does understand me and cares about what I need. I feel the heavy weight of the guilt I have been steadily carrying since the first games slowly lift.

He continues, "Now if anything happens, and you realize you made a mistake... well... I'll still be around Katniss."

I throw my arms around his thankful to have him back.

(COME BACK INTO MJ PAGE 28 WITH

"_WHATEVER THE CASE I HAVE SOMEONE TO TELL MY SECRETS TO AGAIN..."_

FORWARD TO MJ PAGE 114

Katniss and Finnick watch the newest propo together on the television from the hospital room. Before they switch it off The Capitol introduces a special segment with Ceasar Flickerman and his guest.

_Peeta's physical transformation shocks me. The healthy clear-eyed boy I saw a few days ago has lost at least fifteen pounds and developed a nervous tremor in his hands. They've still got him groomed. But underneath the paint that cannot cover the bags under his eyes, and the fine clothes that cannot conceal the pain he feels when he moves, is a person badly damaged... "Oh Peeta,.." I whisper. _

Black screen seal of Panem show over... Footsteps are approaching.

Finnck grips me hard by the arms. "We didn't see it."

"What?" I ask.

"We didn't see Peeta. Only the propo on Eight... Got it?" I nod. "Finish your dinner." I pull myself together.

Plutarch and Fluvia comes in. We congratulate them on the propo. They look relieved. No one mentions Peeta.

When they leave the room, I grab a paper and pencil. Scrawl some words on it and slide the paper to Finnick. He reads the words, digests them, then rises with the paper in his hands and soaks it to a pulpy mash in the sink. He turns and faces me, "Absolutely!"

Finally, we feel useful again. We aren't sure who to trust in our plan, or if we just go it alone. But that seems like even more of a suicide mission. Haymitch, Gale? Could I even ask Coin? Prim told me I could ask for whatever I wanted and they'd have to do it because I'm the Mockingjay. All right, I start with Haymitch.

"You really have lost your mind, sweetheart!" Haymitch says. It was already going better than I had expected. "And it figures your first choice is a guy who can't even get dressed in the morning!"

I take a deep breath, but I wasn't about to let him continue on with his rant so he'd better get to the point. "And all you wrote on that paper was "Let's go get them?" Honestly, you think Coin's just going to give you a hovercraft or make it a special mission?" he asks.

"Yeah, something like that. Or, we'll _borrow_ one." I respond.

"Oh man..." he stumbles out the door and works his way down the hall mumbling. "Let me see what I can figure out."

(TO PAGE 131 to 138)

_The Capitol seal appears, underscored by the anthem. Then I'm staring directly into President Snow's snake eyes as he greets the nation... The camera pulls back to include Peeta... "He's worse," I whisper. Finnick grasps my hand...Peeta begins to speak in a frustrated tone about the need for a cease-fire... Bam! Without warning I'm suddenly on television, standing in the rubble of the bakery. _

_Plutarch jumps to his feet. "He did it! Beetee broke in!"_

_The room is buzzing with reaction when Peeta's back, distracted. He's seen me on the monitor... Peeta's face contorts in effort. "Katniss... how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you...in Thirteen..." He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. "Dead by morning!" The impact of the blow is inseperable from Peeta's cry of pain. And his blood as it splatters the tiles._

_Coin says, "Let's proceed with lockdown."_

Inside the bunker, cooperation is the order of the day.

I think of Peeta, everything he is going through and decide that after this lockdown I am going into the Capitol to locate and rescue him if they voluntarily give me use of a hovercraft or if I steal it. My exercise schedule becomes as rigorous as possible. I try hard to follow the regime Peeta had me on when we were training like the Careers on our way to the Quell.

"I'm coming for you Peeta." This is my mantra when body or mind feels like breaking. And when that pain becomes unbearable I think of my arrow lodged deep inside Snow's chest cavity.

(Read through to page 158)

_After the bombing had stopped and a 24 hour clearance pass, we are called into a meeting. There's no small talk. "We need all four of you suited up and above ground," says Coin. "You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombing... _

"Any questions?"

"Just a request," I put in. "I need an extraction team and a hovercraft to get Peeta out, Annie and Johanna too."

Everyone starts talking at once and Haymitch just rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me.

Coin looks at me unsurprised. "I was wondering when that "request" would be issued. You know it is much too dangerous for us to send the Mockingjay into such a situation."

"I will take all the necessary precautions. I will not throw myself into harms way. Peeta's life is on the line. I've played more dangerous games," I say.

Coin considers me a moment then says, "Boggs get the team ready," she instructs, "Include Finnick and Solder Everdeen. Inside sources tell us Peeta and the other victors are being held in the Training Center. Pollux and Messalla accompany them for filming... a decent propo might come out of this venture yet," Coin says under her breath, "Plutarch, Cressida, Gale and Beetee, you have one week to prepare for our... negotiations with District Two."

Our squads head to special weaponry to ready for the operations before we go up to the surface to shoot the propo.

_I have a chance to see what Gale and Beetee have been working on. Taking the fundamentals of Gales traps and adapting them into weapons against humans... It's less about the mechanics of the traps than the psychology behind them... At some point, they left the wildreness behind and focused on more human impulses. Like compassion. A bomb explodes. Time is allowed for people to rush to aid the wounded. Then a second, more powerful bomb kills them as well. "That seems to be crossing some kind of line," I say... Gale answers me hostility in his voice and expression, "Beetee and I have been following the same rule book President Snow uses... "_

(From page 163)

_During the propo shots of Thirteen, I start crying. "What's wrong with her?" Plutarch says under his breath. _

"_She's figured out how Snow's using Peeta," says Finnick. _

_In the end, the only person I truly want ot comfort me is Haymitch, because he loves Peeta too. I reach out for him and he's there, holding me and patting back. "It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart..._

"Come on, let's go get him." Haymitch finishes.

"Yes," I say as a fire rushes through my agony.

I'm strapped into my seat on the hovercraft. I run my hand across the smooth surface of my bow. Boggs sits in front of me. Soon the hovercraft with the seal of Panem lands in on an airstrip in the Capitol. Boggs has made us privy to the plan and each of our assignments. Because we would be so recognized we spent hours in the prep teams chairs. They have fastened prosthetic noses, cheeks, foreheads, hair or lack of it. My hair is pink and cropped short, it's a hideous wig really, but with the elongated nose piece and puffy lip enhancers, my mother wouldn't recognize me. Boggs was easy, he dons the uniform of a high ranking Peacekeeper. I get the chills just looking over at him.

"Katniss, stop it! Come on you know it's me by now." Boggs says frustratingly through the helmet.

"Yeah, Okay..." I mutter and sink into my seat.

Finnick looks like he drank about fifty cups of strong coffee. He's sits bolt up right, the heel of his boot beats a staccato rhythm on the floor. His knee just vaults up and down, and up and down. He has on a curly pea green wig, lavender colored contact lenses in his eyes, and a heavy dose of freakish make up that conceals his true identity. I'm beginning to wonder if the prisoners will come with us at all or if we'll frighten them more. Finnick is making me dizzy so I look away. The rest of our crew are wearing peace keeper uniforms or capital disguises.

We get through the city fairly easy and make our way into the training center building. Two peacekeepers, several game makers, and avox's that are friends with Plutarch and alliances with the Rebels get us through. Each one taking a position: The phony peacekeepers at the first guard station, avox's that lead us deeper into the center I have become so familiar with, and the game makers chit chat easily with those of us wearing Capitol garb. When we get to the victors holding rooms the guards don't know what hit them. Finnick takes out the first one. His elbow lodges the mans nose bones into his skull, killing him instantly. Boggs takes out another by a fire arm that shoots silently. The third guard lifts a radio to his lips, my arrow sails effortlessly into his eye socket. The radio drops unused. The five remaining guards are subdued by our team and laying face first on the floor. Someone relieves them of their weapons, zip ties their hands behind their backs, gags them and layers them into a utility closet. Boggs takes out a set of intricate keys he was given by the informant. The first door opens.

We access the situation as quickly as possible. We don't have much time.

Johanna hangs listlessly against her cuffs and chains shackled to the walls. She is naked, dried blood clings to her in gobs everywhere and she is covered with bruises and burns. The smell of the room pulls vomit up into my throat and onto my tongue. I swallow it back. One of our guys already has her coming down over his shoulder, as Boggs and Finnick are opening the other two chambers. "I've got Annie and Enobaria in here," calls Boggs. That means Finnicks got Peeta. I race beyond to the other door. Finnick tripped up at the mention of Annie's name and although he unlocked Peeta's room, and called Peeta's name it hung in the air as he double backed for Annie. I don't really blame him, how could I. I had just side stepped Annie's door. As the clean metallic door swings on its hinges I take it all in in one breath: Peeta's strapped to a bed wearing a wide-eyed expression of terror, a man wearing a white lab coat standing over the top of him is tapping the vein in his arm, a long syringe in his right hand is poised to pierce Peeta's flesh. My first arrow bursts through the mans throat, his grip falters on the syringe sending it shattering, golden green liquid splays acroos the floor. My second arrow stops his heart. Peeta was breathing rapid shallow breaths, he was hyperventilating.

"Ar... ro... ws..." he chokes out.

"It's me. It's Katniss, I whisper reassuringly. Somehow he sees me.

"You... came... for... me..." he breathes with great difficulty.

"Of course I did," But as I say it, his eyes roll back into his head and his body slumps against the bed. "Boggs!" I yell too loudly as I cut the leather straps binding Peeta's wrists and legs. Boggs hurries into the room, checks Peeta's pulse, and when he seems satisfied, he hoists him over his shoulder.

"We got to get out of here." Boggs orders.

Halfway out of the building the double agent peace keeper's walkie radios went alive, "It seems we have a disturbance on floor 13, all peace keepers report to floor 13." It was only a matter of moments before they discovered we had taken the prisoners and were somewhere in the building. I saw the little red latch and knew I had to act fast, asking no one for permission. I run to the side wall and pull down the fire alarm switch. Bells and sirens wail. Johanna lets out a hoarse cry. Peeta hasn't been roused. Annie is making movements struggling against Finnicks thick shoulder. He coos soothingly into her ear. No one knew who they were, they were covered in blankets. Boggs pushs his way through the crowd, who are herded like cattle toward the exit doors due to the alarm.

"Make way, injured citizens, coming through," Boggs speaks in an authoritative deep tone. People clear a path. As we get into the daylight, the informant Peace keeper stops to talk with the new outdoor guards. "Yeah," he's says. "Some idiot caused a fire. These citizens were rendered unconscious by smoke inhalation. They're being taken to the hospital. We need to go back in and make sure there is nobody else." He finishes turning with the other Peace keepers and reenters the building.

We are back on the hovercraft safely sailing back to District 13. I scrubbed the paint off of my face, remove the facial pieces, and throw the wig to the floor as I run to the bed Peeta was in.

His face is ash white and lifeless. His sleep looks like that of someone dead. His skin has a sickly golden green pallor. Deep black bruises cuff his wrists where the shackles had been. Needle marks dot his arms. His prosthetic leg has been removed. He smells of urine and sweat.

"Can I wash him?" I shakily ask the doctor attending him.

"The nurse was prepping to do it, but if you'd like to, go ahead." There is sympathy in his eyes. " "Just stay clear of his arms, we don't know whats been done to him yet."

I nod silently, go to the sink and fill a hand tub with warm water, like I used to draw for Prim's baths when she was little. The doctor points to the cupboard where I find a soft white cloth and a liquid soap that has a sterile scent. I didn't wish for Prim or my mother. Their was not a lot of blood and no broken bones, only a broken busted boy who I love with all my life. I gently bring the warm cloth to his feet, first, then bring it lightly up his legs. "I don't care if you see me naked, Katniss," he had told me when I washed him of his wounds in the arena. Hot tears spill down my cheeks. I wash the delicate area between his thighs as the doctor inserts a tube into Peeta's arm. I trust him, I have no choice. I get a fresh cloth and wash down his hair, trying to remove the plastered sweat and tears.

Peeta's eyes flutter open. "Are we in the arena Katniss?"

The utter ragged hoarsness of his voice takes my breath away. My strength ebbs and I begin to sob.

"Don't cry, they'll hear you," he pleads weakly.

"We're safe now, we are out of the Capitol."

"You came for me." he breathes.

"I would die for you, Peeta," I answer.

"I thought it was... a dream." he stammers.

His fingers twitch over the sheets but he is too weak to lift his arm. I take his hand into mine and press it into my cheek, into the tears.

"Are you really my wife?" he whispers.

"Always," I remind him.

"It wasn't a dream, before th Quell?" he's so weak.

"it was real, Peeta." I reassure him.

He falls back into sleep as the morphling reaches into him. A hint of a smile crosses his face.

When we are back in Thirteen, he stays asleep for what seems like forever. Days go by. I am being driven to madness. I either sit by his bedside, talking, singing, or reading to him or to keep my body strong I do endless sit ups, push ups, and running in place. I must look ridiculous, but it makes me know my heart is still beating. A cot has been brought in for me to sleep on, because I'm not leaving the room. Prim and my mother bring me light foods every few hours-soup, toast, fruit juices.

The time passes agonizingly slow. My fingers curl around Peeta's pearl in my pocket and I pace the floor. Or I roll it methodically across my lips. I can imagine Peeta's lips lingering on mine, all the kisses he had showered me with. I try to keep my heart from falling to pieces looking at all of the tubes dripping medicine or nourishment into him, the marks on his body-proof of the Capitol inflicted torture, the heartbeat monitor, blood pressure cuff, and temperature gage.

On the third day I have an idea.

I come to the side of his bed and begin tracing the the lines in his arms with my fingers. His skin goose- bumps, responding to my touch. I smile. Then I frown when I remember the guard in the room. "Would you, Please... give us a bit of privacy?" I ask.

"I could turn around if you' d like Soldier Everdeen, but I'm not permitted to leave the room," he responds.

"Henry right?" I ask.

"Yes."

"That's okay, I know there is a crowd behind the two way mirror anyway. I just... you know, need..." my voice trails off.

Understanding Henry our guard turns and faces the wall.

I put my mouth to Peeta's ear. I had been talking to him this whole time, but decide this might be more stirring. "Remember the night by the fire, Peeta... our honeymoon? It's not over you know, it's just beginning. Our lives, you and me. Please wake up. I know Snow hurt you but we can make it right again. Peeta, I love you," I bend down and cover his lips with mine, kissing as if his were moving, my tears drip down to his face. "Please Peeta, I need you. I don't want to be alone without you. Please come back to me."

Desperation suddenly overwhelms me. I am shaking him. "Peeta, wake up. Wake up now Peeta!" My voice which was calm and soothing is suddenly manic till I'm shouting. The guard turns and tries to subdue me and several lab coated doctors come to pull me out. But I just keep begging. I know they are going to stick a needle in me any second. "Peeta! I can't live without you, please!" I yell.

Everything goes dead silent as Peeta's eyes slowly open.

"Katniss?" His voice is soft as a whisper.

My breath hitches, "Peeta!" The guard releases me and I fall into the bed hard from my momentum. "I'm here. I've been here the whole time."

He swallows and squints his eyes as if the subdued hospital lighting was as bright as the sun. His brow furrows, his breath comes out in quick pants, fear and confusion paints his expression.

"Get her away from me!" he cries

"Why Peeta? What is it?" I plead.

"Get her away from me now!" he shouts violently.

I stumble back into the guards grasp.

"I have to kill her! I am supposed to kill her!" Peeta yells and strains against his bed to hold himself in place, like he is engaged in a physical battle with an invisible force.

My world swirls around me and turns black.

CHAPTER...

SHADOWS OF VENOM

I wake up in a hospital room, needles and tubes are sticking in my arm. Prim is sleeping on the chair next to my bed.

"Prim? What's going on?" I ask still hazy.

"Oh Katniss, you're okay." she says gasping.

Was she asking or telling me? It was hard to tell.

"You have been out for a couple of days. I've been here waiting for you." she says. With that she steps over me and kisses my cheek. I couldn't help but smile, even though it was pained.

"Peeta?" I ask.

"I don't know, people don't tell me much. But, I was instructed to get Dr. A, Finnck and Haymitch when you woke up. I'll be right back."

I lean my head back on the pillow and close my eyes. This couldn't be good.

The three came into the room and stand around my bed. They all start talking at me. I can watch their mouths moving as if they're formulating words, but it feels like they are talking underwater. A few words stuck: Peeta, poisoned, tracker jacker venom, brainwashed.

I force my mind to make their words make sense, to form coherently and logically into my reason. When they finish I understand.

Peeta had been tortured and repeatedly injected with tracker jacker venom. His memories had been distorted and new terrifying memories had been implanted, all of them about me. He was stuck in a quasi reality. Snow told him I had bombed 12 and murdered his family, that I had killed Rue in cold blood, that the rebellion was all my fault, that I was not a real person, but a rebel made mutation. These false memories had been supplanted with the command to kill me. Snow in essence created an assassin to terminate me, someone I never would have expected.

"What happened then? Why did he tell me to get away? Why didn't kill me?" I ask.

Dr. A responded, "This is our theory, Katniss. What memories he has real or not real have some bearing in truth. He feels the love he has for you, that protective side that's been keeping you safe from the beginning. That part of him is fighting and holding out hope for you. The other side has been so tampered with, so polluted, it cannot differentiate what is true information from the false. Although they've altered him, they could not destroy his core. He doesn't really want to kill you, but he feels if you are a dangerous mutation, that he has to." Dr. A pauses for a moment. "He remembers that he loves you so deeply, but he can't quite reach it through the lies, the fear and the anger towards what he's been told you've done. It's really very amazing he was able to hold himself back to warn you. He's very strong, even with everything they did to him."

"There is so much hope, Katniss!" Finnick finishes. "He is here, he is safe now, and you'll be able to help him prove the truth."

"What's being done to counter act the venom?" I shoot.

"That is a bit tricky," Dr. A begins. "It was all experimental on the Capitol's part. We've never seen anything like this before and we aren't sure how to counter act it. Right now we are using a blood purifier and large quantities of the anti-venom we use to treat sting victims. He's gone through several treatments since you've been in here. He wants to see you. Maybe tomorrow morning, if you feel up to it?"

I nod. "Yes, I'll be up to it by morning."

"Good. We'll see you then." Dr. A excuses himself.

"If you need anything at all Katniss, give me a call. I'm going in to see him tonight. I'll put a good word in for ya!" He elbows me and adds a wink. Only Finnick.

My mind jeers, let me get this straight, Peeta is terrified of me, thinks I'm capable of atrocities, and suspects I'm a mutt? And at the same time stored in the same brain are the true thoughts of us together, the full reality. I take a deep breath. I'm terrified.

Only Haymitch hangs back. "He needs to see you regularly. We have a theory that the more you spend time with him helping him grasp whats real and not real, the faster Peeta Mellark will get his life back. You up to it, Sweetheart?" Good ole Haymitch always to the point. But his theory seems rational enough.

"Yes." I respond trying to pull myself behind that inner shield where fear and pain becomes numb. Or are at least dulled. The survival mechanism. Don't feel, just keep moving.

"We'll have to keep a couple of guards in the room for your protection," he insists.

I feel a hot tear stream down the center of my cheek. I turn my face to stone. But another cascades down the other side. I ignore them. But they didn't escape Haymitch's attention.

"If I know anything, it's that _that boy _loves you. His entire existence for the past two years has been to keep you alive and safe," Haymitch turns my face with his hands to meet his eyes. I'm taken aback, he's never touched me before. "Peeta, the_ real _Peeta, is in there. His love for you _is_ strong enough to overcome the venom. Do you understand me, Katniss?"

I swallow hard and nod.

"Don't you give up," he lets me go and takes a deep breath. "There is a power between the two of you. Believe in that."

I look at him square and steady myself, going to that fortified place I know so well. We are still in the arena. Still fighting for each other. Snow devised this situation to be just that. Turning us into mutts against one another. I will make Snow pay. He is my boy with the bread, the one who has lit me with hope in each of my darkest hours. Haymitch is right. We do have a power.

"I need a few things Haymitch, make it happen." I say commandingly.

"You're the Mockingjay, tell me what you need." he's says glad to be in on it.

"I'll need two mugs of hot chocolate, strawberries and croissants. And they need to be served on a silver service."

"Okay," he looks quizzical but writes it down without a bunch of questions.

"We need his paintings, they're a testament by his own hand of who he is. And get him some fresh paints and canvas, it'll help him sort it all out."

"Good ideas. I'll get a hold of the Games, the Quell, and your tours, along with the interviews, too," he adds. "He is lucky to have you, sweetheart." And I can tell he really means it.

"We are lucky to have him too," I say. "He was so brave to warn us before the bombing. Bring that interview also."

Haymitch nods and disappears out the door.

…...

Chapter …

Soul Mates

The array of nightmares causes me to wake up feeling damaged and exhausted.

Prim helps me bathe and dress. My limbs feel mechanical. I put on clothes reminiscent of my own that Cinna designed for me as opposed to the mute uniforms of Thirteen, Peeta would never recognize those. My mother comes in. She doesn't ask me if I'm all right, she just begins brushing my hair, methodically. I watch her above me through the mirror. I think about how much she must have loved my father, how connected she was to him to have lost herself so thoroughly after he died. She sighs heavily behind me as she finishes braiding my hair in my simple down the back style.

"The term is 'soul mates', Katniss," she says. "That intimate connection... almost like you are one person. Peeta is your soul mate. I've seen it in the two of you for a long time. It's a near unbreakable attachment. Your other half." We both let the weight of the words and the silence calm us. Soul mates.

"Your father was mine," she says softly. "I'm sorry.. about... that I just..." She had tears in her eyes. "You and Prim were my whole world. I never thought I'd disengage like that."

"I forgive you," I say allowing sympathy wash over me. We hold one another. The hardened ice around my heart splits through the middle. For the first time I can understand how my mother may have felt.

"I believe he can come back to you," she smiles. "If you need me at anytime, I'll be in the infirmary." With that she lets herself out of the room.

I lean back in my chair wishing for my woods, so I could take all this in, prepare myself for my meeting with Peeta. Soul mates. I sit quiet for awhile before Prim announces, "Dr. A just phoned, it's time."

I stand behind the one-way mirror that is a window into Peeta's hospital room. Finnick is in with him. They are watching portions of the Quarter Quell. The scene when Finnick rescues him from the starting plate and swims him back to me was playing.

"Katniss, I want you to take this little blue pill, it will help relax you through this process," Dr. A offers a capsule in the palm of his hand.

"I don't really want it," I respond.

"This isn't going to be easy. It will calm you if you start to have a panic attack or a flash back."

"Fine. Can I just put it into my pocket for later? I want to be clear with him," I suggest.

"Sure," Dr. A said. "I'm sorry for all of this. He loves you dearly you know," he adds.

"How do you know?" I ask.

"Because he argues with himself around the clock. It's like he has two different personalities vying for dominance. He calls out for you through the night. Since the cleansing treatments he realizes that we are not the enemy and that we are helping him."

I needed to hear that.

Then I hear something else. Peeta's loud voice saying, "See, see there? She's trying to kill me!" The scene is playing out where he walked into the force field and I'm madly trying to get Finnick away from him.

"No," explains Finnick. "She's trying to kill _me, _because she thinks I'm killing you."

A confused expression covers Peeta's face. But he looks like he wants to believe him. He watches the scene intently. "What are _you_ doing to me?" he asks Finnick more calmly.

"CPR. You're heart had stopped, I was reviving it."

As soon as Peeta took his life breath back, I watch how I throw myself over him, screaming his name, frantic for him to return to life... scared to death... I dampen his face with kisses.

"Rewind it," he demands and Finnick does. They watch it three times.

"Yes Peeta, she feels all of that for you," Finnick lets the moment settle in. "One more thing..." Finnick fast forwards to the scene where he and I are separated from the others by the thick clear wall. I feel a shooting pang of hate for Plutarch. You can even hear the Jabberjays screaming like Prim. I slide down the wall. Peeta sees me and runs for me. Discovering we are separated we place our hands on the cool smooth wall between us. Hand upon hand. We stay that way for the duration of the hour and when the wall comes down Peeta is holding me, rocking me in his arms, soothing me softly with his words.

"And _you_ feel all that for _her," _Finnick finishes.

Peeta pauses the film. His loving hold on me is frozen on the screen. A photograph to remind him who we are.

"Thank you Finnick," he says.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Finnick comes through the door into the room where we are watching. For once we don't exchange words. Everything that needs to be said is on the frozen television screen. I will never stop owing Finnick Odair. But maybe that's okay. Maybe that's what friends do.

I take a deep breath and push my body through the door, stepping into his room.

…...

Chapter...

His muscles stay relaxed, even when he sees me. It's like all of the fight is out of him and he's tired. His eyes drink me in. After a time they gaze back to the stilled photograph on the TV.

"I know I love you a lot," he says after a time.

My voice catches in my throat. I can't stop thinking that whatever I say is going to be wrong, is going to set him off, is going to hurt him.

"Did you really love me or was that all for the cameras? Because it looks like you do," his voice is soft, only mildly accusatory, more inquisitive.

"I'm not that good of an actress, Peeta," I say thinking of my reaction after Finnick saved him.

"Let me tell you what my problem is," he begins. "I can remember that I love you, I can feel it. But I also remember terrible things you did to me, to my family, to the Districts and Twelve." He starts to sneer, but regains his composure. "The people here have been answering my questions, but I want to seeyou answer them."

I sit in the overstuffed chair next to his bed and rest my head on the arm. "I'll answer all of your questions. We have all the time in the world. When you're better we'll be able to lay next to each other again and I'll rest my head on your chest like we always do," I say.

"That was just for show, you never meant it." he accused.

"Is that true Peeta? Is that a real memory? I ask calmly.

He is breathing through his nostrils like a bull and his eyes seem close to manic. He whispers, "She doesn't love you, she hates you. She tried to kill you with tracker jackers, she tried to send you over the edge of the Cornucopia with Cato." When he finishes speaking he beats his head repeatedly against the pillow.

"You remember when you drew that X on Cato's hand with your blood, showing me to shoot it. You were brilliant," I remind him.

"That night in the cave... you didn't care about me then. You were only playing it up so you could get food for yourself," he says. But he really asks it like a question.

"We shared the food," I say.

"Then you drugged me! I saw it! The Capitol showed me the video!" spittle flew from his dehydrated lips.

"Please someone get him a glass of water." I say to the mirror.

"Don't do me any favors," he says.

"We have a problem Peeta," I begin resolved. "We are going to have to take this slow, have understanding and realize your true memories aren't going to come back instantly. We have to find a way to weed out what's not real. Isn't their anyway to tell them apart?"

"You drugged me!" he shouts. The guards jump to attention, but no one moves. He looks so confused, so lost.

"To get the medicine for you!" I throw back against his ragged claim. "Cato cut your leg! You were dying from trying to protect me."

His eyebrow furrowed. "You cut me. The Capitol video showed you cutting me." He was visibly conflicted.

"I can show you the real un-Capitol-tampered video," I offer.

"No! Don't... don't take the picture off that is on it now," he says slowly.

"How did your leg heal from the blood poisoning?" I ask quietly as if to a wounded animal.

Peeta laid his head back against the pillow. "I know what blood poisoning is Katniss, even if my mother isn't a healer," he breathed remembering his words to me in the first arena. He squeezes his eyes shut hard. "The shot, the feast," he opens them and studies me, "The gash in your head."

"Clove had sliced me with one of her knives. I didn't know if I was going to make it back to you," one of those hot tears escaped my eyes. Involuntarily my fingers touch where Cloves knife had penetrated me.

"I remember Katniss," he says dreamily. He was falling asleep. I watch him sleep until my eyes close.

I was running after Snow who carried Cloves knife. He had just slashed Peeta's leg with it and was chasing him to finish him off, laughing a sinisterly. I almost had him when he spun around turning into Clove and skillfully whipped the knife at my face.

"No! Nooooo! Let her gooooo! KAAATNIIISSS!" Peeta's screams wake me from my terror and throw me into another one. "Let her go! She didn't know anything!"

I shake him "Peeta, it's all right, I'm right here."

"Stop it! You're killing her!" He shrieks.

I was shaking him hard now realizing whatever medication he was on was making him more difficult than ever to rouse from his nightmares. How horrible to be trapped in a nightmare, thinking it was real, but only being asleep. That is how he must feel even when he is awake, I think.

"KAAAATNNNNIIIISSSS!" He wails.

"Please Peeta! I'm right here! I finally rouse him from his horror. He wakes with a scream escaping his throat. He becomes bewildered when he sees me.

"Katniss?" he asks.

"Yes, Peeta, I'm right here."

"You are alive." he gasps.

"Mmhm. Yes I am. Thanks to you."

"I knew you were, I remember our talks since I've gotten back. That dream just seemed so real," he continues. "While I was held prisoner in the Capital, Snow had you in the room next to mine... and was... hurting you," he breaks down weeping."Snow said he wouldn't let you go until I confessed to knowing about the rebellion and what their next move was. He wanted me to admit you were a part of it."

"I was never there Peeta. It was a part of his lies."

"I heard you," he cries deflated.

"It must have been the jabberjays like the ones in the clock arena, screaming like Prim." The TV still has the captured freeze frame glowing on it's screen. "The Capitol never had me. The Thirteen hovercraft took me directly out of the arena."

"You are safe then?" he double checks.

"Yes, we are safe now," I offer.

"You're crying," he says.

The palm of my hand lifts to my cheek and comes back wet, "I guess I am."

"I loved you since I was five."

"That's what you've told me."

"I remember the bread, Katniss," his eyes meet mine. "My mother was mad!" he says dramatically, "but I didn't care," he admits with a small smile on his lips.

I couldn't imagine how his mother could have treated him so badly. If she hit him for that, what else did she hit him for? "I'm sorry she hit hit. You never deserved to be treated that way, for anything. And what you did for me was a great kindness. She should have been proud of you," I say.

"Yeah, you're right," he says. "You know when my dad found out, he waited until she was gone, roughed up my hair and said he would have done the same thing. He always had my back. Unless it was just her around, then I really had to watch my every step."

He begins rocking back and forth. Slowly he slides down into the bed. I look toward the mirror. Something was wrong. He starts groaning like he's having a nightmare while he is still awake. He cries out as if he's in pain. "They showed me the pictures, Katniss... of you bombing Twelve. I saw it..." he is holding both sides of his head with his hands, shaking it back and forth. He seems to be whithering in pain. I don't know how to help him. "I... I don't know. I saw a picture of you standing in the debris of what used to be my parents bakery. It was just for a moment. It was when I was with Snow and Ceaser." he says tortured.

"Yes, that is when Beetee broke through with the broadcast. We wanted show the Districts what the Capitol had done. So Plutarch sent me in. It was horrible." tears rush up into my eyes and my nose begins to burn. Peeta is still shaking his head.

"They showed me you did it, that you were responsible... 'Oh look, what the Mockingjay has done to your family Peeta. She murdered them, blew your bakery sky high. She hates you, she's a mutt, she dropped the bombs... it's all because of her...,' It seemed so real Katniss, tell me you didn't do it, tell me you weren't responsible..." he's trying to hold on, but he's slipping fast.

The idea of his accusations make me dizzy. "No," I shake my head but no words escape me. Panic constricts my throat. The ashes on my boots, the skulls I tripped over, the decomposing bodies all around me. "How could I have...?"

I back up and feel hands grasping the back of my shoulders. I whip around, still in the arena.

"It's me, love," my mother says softly. I immediately breathe again.

Peeta's frame weakens at the sight of her. He knows and remembers my mother.

"Peeta, I was in Twelve when it was bombed, she says. Snow sent in the hovercrafts right after the force field was disabled. Do you remember Beetee's wire and the lightening tree?"

Peeta nods his head and closes his eyes. I slump back into the seat amazed at my mother.

"You and Katniss were still in the arena when we were bombed. The TV's all went black and no one knew what was going on. It had never happened before. Ten minutes later the bombs were showering down on us like rain. Everybody scattered. Prim and I were lucky, because we knew the breech in the fence Katniss and her father used for hunting. It was not Katniss or the rebellion. It was Snow." Her voice trails off and she says almost at a whisper, "The Justice Building and the square were taken first. Their were not many survivors. I'm so sorry Peeta."

He brings his hands up and covers his face. Sobs begin to rack his body. I wanted to go to him so desperately, wrap him in my arms and tell him I was so sorry. The death of my father changed me irrevocably. He just lost his entire family. He wasn't ready for me I knew. He was just getting over the idea that I had been responsible. I slumped further into the chair trying to escape into its cushion.

"Go on, Katniss. Take a break. I'll stay with him," my mother was like a new person. I nod and quietly let myself out.

I hate this place. No windows to give a natural sense or rhythm of time. I don't even know what hour it is. A clock on the wall says 4. Was that am or pm? When I realize how quiet the hallways are I know a.m. I go to our compartment and slide in next to Prim without waking her.

…...

(Page 282 Nut)

The next day we received information about District 2 and the military stronghold known as the Nut. The Rebel forces had decided to use avalanches to trap or kill the numbers of people inside, whoever survived were able to escape out of the remaining tunnels by underground train cars. It was a horrible, miserable war game with far too many casualties. I wondered how Peeta would have negotiated for the people in the Nut had he been himself. I remembered Gales words that if her could press a button and kill everyone in the Capitol he'd do it in a heartbeat. The thought gave me chills. Now with District Two fallen to the Rebels, all of the Capitol's hover crafts and weapons had been seized. The Capitol was virtually defenseless. Plutarch was talking about doing another propo soon, because meetings of infiltrating the Capitol were taking place and it was a great way to rally the Districts, especially considering the only real defenses left in the Capitol besides the Peace Keepers were the mutation pods lined and activated throughout the outer perimeter of the Capitol, turning the streets into a virtual arena. I skipped several of the meetings and only appeared as necessary as the Mockingjay and the face of the rebellion, but honestly it could rage all around me, my concern was Peeta now. Haymitch had spent time watching the games with him, showing him our more intimate moments, even when we had spent the entire day together alone on the roof. He went over his paintings with him and helped clarify questions and create resolve. Peeta was responding excellently to the treatments. The next couple weeks go smoother and Peeta returns to me more and more everyday. He asks me questions and we smooth out the confusion. He is no longer dangerous to me and many of the events that had happened before the Quell he remembers much more clearly. We are able to walk through the halls, go down into the gardens, even outside some days. We have had the guard present everywhere we go and Peeta tires easily still with the treatments he has each day, but he's getting stronger again. Healthier.

He came to the realization that the memories and ideas supplanted by the Capitol had a greenish yellow tint to them, "Remember when we were stung by the tracker jackers and things that happened were 'shiny' with a hazy tint to them?"

"I remember," I say. I remember when Glimmers body felt apart in my hands and when Peeta shouted at me to run and he was shimmering.

"My real memories are regular, unadulterated, their pure. No tinge," he says. "I'm remembering a lot.

You're favorite color is green," he offers confidently. "Like the forest."

"Yes, and yours is orange, muted like a sunset," I smile and so does he.

"I know your favorite bread," he teases playfully.

"Really? What is it?" I quiz.

"Raisins and nuts," his answer was gold.

"It was the first bread you ever gave me. It could have been our first toasting," I muse.

"Our _"first_" toasting? What do you mean?" A look of perplexity came over him with confusion.

He doesn't remember.

…..

Chapter...

Remembrance

"Should I do it now? He had remembered when we first got him back. He asked me if I was still his wife?" I'm holding panic at bay.

Dr. A says, "He probably does remember but its stuck so to speak and just needs to be drawn back out. It must be pretty close to the surface since he had remembered before."

I ask Dr. A and my mother about my plan. They both agree it is as good a time as any.

I enter Peeta's room while he is still asleep and lay the silver service tray, mugs of hot cocoa, croissants,

and strawberries and set it down on the bedside stand. I wrap myself in a plush white robe, take a seat, and wait. Maybe the white robe is a little over the top, but why not, every little bit helps. I doze a little when I hear Peeta ask, "What is all this?" I open my eyes to find him staring at it, trying desperately to remember. "It means something, doesn't it?"

"Don't try so hard. Remember Dr. A says let it just come," I remind him gently.

"It's deja-vu. I've seen this before, right?" he asks, at least he trusts me more now. "Why do I remember the silver service set?" he's biting his lip in concentration. I suddenly find myself wanting to kiss it.

"I told you the story of my mothers that she brought with her to the Seam when she married my father."

He nods in an absent minded recognition. "No," he shakes his head. "That's not..." his voice halts.

"I chose you," he whispers into the still air.

My heart skips a beat, then begins pounding in my chest and ears, my breath hitches.

"That's what you said to me isn't?" he's sorting it out and it's coming to the surface. Remembrance flickers in his eyes and spreads across his face.

"I still chose you," I say.

His breath hitches, his eyes searching. I beg an unseen force to please, please help him.

"Over Gail?" there is a doubtful edge in his voice and I'm sad for it.

I counter, "You have no competition anywhere," my words from our first games. I add, "Their has never been anyone but you."

He is staring at the service set as if willing it to speak, to tell him what he needs to know.

"Come on," I say. "Sit up and eat. You need nourishment," I lift the cooled cocoa to Peeta's lips, he takes a drink and swallows.

"I love this stuff," he says.

"I know," I confirm.

"You love me, real or not real?" his eyes never leave mine.

"Oh Peeta, I love you with my whole life. Real," I answer.

Then I tear off a bite sized piece of croissant, dip it into the cocoa as he had done for me and place it in his mouth. He is staring at me now with such intensity! His eyes are smoldering.

His mind searches it's files. His eyes widen, "Oh Katniss, I remember!... I remember!"

He scoops me into his arms. This is the first since his return. "I remember," Peeta's hot tears stream down my neck and pool against my collarbone. "Oh, I love you Katniss! I love you so much. I have always loved you!"

I'm crying now too. Our salt and tears mixing. "I remember," he breathes "Kiss me."

I lean in tasting the chocolate and the salt on his lips. So soft, so loving, so precious. I had almost lost him.

"You held on to me... You didn't give up on me," he has my face in his hands, searching my eyes.

I reach into my pocket revealing the pearl he had given me on the beach in the arena. I place it in his hand. He rolls its smoothness against his palm.

"You kept it," he breathed.

"I held it the entire time you were taken away. It gave me hope that you'd come back to me... Oh and

this..." I lift the locket from underneath my shirt.

"My token. You kept it."

"Yes, but I changed it up a little," I say.

He looked puzzled. "Well," I begin. "Remember when you tried to convince me I could have a life without you?"

He nods silently.

"Open it," I say as I hand it out for him.

He disengages the clasp and opens the warm golden locket like small butterfly wings. A picture of my mother and Prim are on one side and on the other, a photograph of Peeta and I together. The picture was taken right before the Quell directly after our toasting.

He meets my eyes.

"I still chose you," I touch his face.

"You meant it when you married me," he says almost as a question.

"Absolutely," I beam. "We're a family."

He pulls me back into his arms, "Always," he breathes into my ear.

"I've missed you, Peeta," I lean into him. It feels like home.

…...

Chapter …

Finnick and Annie's wedding is beautiful. Annie wore a stunning green gown Cinna had created for me. My mother, Prim and I wove flowers into her braided hair. Finnick wore one of Peeta's black suits from the tour. Finnick looked so happy. It was incredible! He didn't let go of Annie all night except to trade parters with Peeta and I for one dance. Plutarch did his best to make it spectacular even with the limited funds from Thirteen. Peeta baked and decorated a lavish cake arrayed with leaping dolphins, ocean waves and beautiful flowers. They added as many traditions from District Four as they could find. It was a beautiful reminder that the world does go on. A group of instrumentalists from District Twelve played music. Oh, it had been so long. Peeta and I danced together for the first time. It almost feels like we are all living a normal life. That we are not really in the middle of a cruel, bloody war.

Peeta leads me to bed that night. We are out of the hospital and have our compartment next to Prim and my mom. We lay together in the soft glow of the overhead light. "You know we should have a full ceremony too," Peeta suggests. "Would you like that?"

I nod somewhat shy, "Of course." Yeah, I really am a girl.

"Me too. I want to celebrate our joy with our friends," he says.

"And finish all the official paperwork," I add.

He smiles obviously pleased with my thought.

"So, have we been on our honeymoon ever since before the Quell?" he says lightly.

We both sober quickly.

"You know, I'm thinking with you being the Mockingjay, and the Capitol folding and all, we could probably use a hovercraft and go anywhere we wanted to for a real honeymoon. We could even go to Four, be by the ocean." I'm thinking, nice save, Peeta. Do you have any ideas?"

I muse with a far away look in my eyes. "Yeah, we could go to the most beautiful spot in the world. It's about five miles out of Twelve. Past the meadow, there is a lake. My father and I used to go there. I'd love to share that place with you. Their is even a little cabin."

"That sounds perfect," he says.

"You know... there is really no reason why we shouldn't start working on our honeymoon tonight," I say playfully.

And so we did. We hadn't come together since the night of our toasting before the Quell. That time we had both been feverish and hungry, starving for one another. This night, we were slow and gentle, so full of pent up emotions. As we rocked, we cried-a relieving, cleansing cry. So grateful that the other was alive. Overwhelmed we were together-with all the odds against us-there we were, in each others arms, safe. We made love through the night and slept more soundly than we ever had.

In the morning Peeta says, "I'm so not letting you out of bed today."

I laugh and twirl my finger tips over the muscles in his arm.

"I wish. But I think Plutarch has some propos we are supposed to get ready for... But I'd rather we didn't have to go anywhere," I think a moment then suddenly roll on top of him "No one said we couldn't be late."

That was the only cue he needed...

(INSERT TITLED; WAKING UP (Rated M).

We lay exhausted side by side. "I'm starving!" I exclaim.

"Me too. I hate the feeding schedule around here," Peeta agrees.

"Let's get dressed and find some food," we wash up, dress, and head out to the cafeteria.

Turns out we are not late after all. Everyone must have slept in from the festivities. Everyone looks half asleep and are drinking weak cups of coffee. "You'd think as a head gamemaker gone rebel you could still command a decent cup of coffee. But not in this place!" Plutarch complains. Peeta and I smile at each other knowingly. We have better ways to wake up. Finnick is sitting opposite the table from us and is absolutely glowing.

"Good morning Finnick," Peeta sing songs.

"Yeah, life is good." Finnick sighs.

I couldn't agree more.

About five minutes later Coin comes in. She explains that Gale and Beetee have already been briefed and are busy working. Boggs and Paylor have readied their people and are already headed to the Capital. I think about the implications. Snow will be defeated, his games over, he will have lost everything. I relish in the daydream that is to become reality.

"It is good to see that Peeta has made such a strong recovery and that our Mockingjay has as well. I have already cleared it with Dr. A that you are both well enough to travel to the Capitol with Plutarch and his team along with Finnick to do a propos as the Capitol take over is complete and Snow is in custody. That kind of news should come from the faces of the Rebellion. You need to leave ASAP. Good luck." We have our orders.

We are directed promptly to the hovercraft we will be using. I notice a Capitol emblem on the side.

"Where did we get this and why are we using it?" I ask to our group.

"It's great really," Plutarch begins. "After the Nut was taken we were able to confiscate all of the

Capitol's hover crafts and weaponry. They are totally defenseless now. Using this hovercraft will also provide an extra security measure, from the Capitol citizens as we get ready for filming."

"Makes sense," says Peeta.

We all strap in for take off. When we are in air Peeta, Finnick and I are whisked into a brightly lit room for make up and dressing. As they are the only stylists left alive, Fluvia, Octavia, and Venia have their hands full with all three of us to makeover. They decide for times sake they had best split up so each one takes one of us and begins bringing us back to that old beauty base zero standard. I am dressed in Cinna's Mockingjay uniform. I feel thankful he still lives in these little ways. I silently thank his spirit for such a gift. I finally came to understand that my actions were not to blame for his death. He planned this rebelion. This was his dying wish. The least I could do for him was to live my future.

Plutarch begins briefing us as he hands each of us a coveted communicuff. "The rebels are operating through frequency 1047. We will listen to their operations and once the Capitol is secured we'll rush in for footage. Katniss, as always, say what you feel in the moment. Peeta and Finnick, as Mockingjay we need to give her the brightest spotlight, but we need you to add into it whatever you need to say. We must address the fact that the Capitol has fallen, that now is the time more than ever for the Districts to unite. We also need you to invite the citizens of the Capitol to the new world. And by the way, we will be airing everything live."

We land into the cleared green of the square directly across from Snow's mansion-the last stronghold. Our pilot keeps the engines on in case we have to make a quick retreat. I take in the scene all around us. The refugees of Capital citizens are pouring into the streets surrounding the Capital building. Peace keepers are ushering the crowds into adjacent buildings for protection, shouting orders through megaphones, separating children from their parents. At first I can't fathom why. Finnick, Peeta, and I are watching as the children are being herded into a large enclosure surrounding Snow's mansion. They are freezing, some of them are crying for their mothers or huddled on the ground whimpering. They are all frightened to death. Children as young as two years old and as old as eighteen. The older ones are trying to calm and quiet the little ones, but it's not doing much good. Peace keepers have formed a guard around the perimeter of the enclosure and have completely blocked off the exits.

"What are they doing?" Finnick snaps.

"I'm not sure," I can't put my finger on it.

"Snow's made a human shield using the children," Peeta answers firmly.

Finnick and I look at him wide eyed.

"He's done it before. Every time the Rebels got close, every time he got scared. I was here for awhile, guys," he draws away from the window.

But I can't follow him. I'm mesmerized again by Snow's cruelty. All of a sudden I hear Boggs voice break through on the communicuff.

"Sectors 4 and 5 are secured. All pods have been deactivated. We are going to need a hover craft directly over the mansion. Have a squad of your soldiers propel down the walls. Snow is hiding behind hundreds of unarmed citizens. Mainly children. We have to handle this mission carefully. We will cover the propellers from the ground. Copy."

"Copy," Paylor responds.

Almost immediately, a hovercraft with the Capitol insignia comes above the top of the Mansion. Snow must have been holding out to the last minute! This must be his grand rescue and escape. A curse escapes my lips. He's going to get away. No squad of soldiers propel from the hovercrafts belly and I know I am right. Then a most surprising thing happens. Silver parachutes float effortlessly into the throngs of children. Small frightened hands reach and grasp at the silver gifts. We all know what they are, food, drink, warmth, needs met. Hundreds of parachutes are being pulled open by the eager and frightful children. The parachutes detonate so violently our hover craft shakes and the lights flicker. Body parts are thrown into the streets. Blood pours into the gutters.

"What the hell?" Peeta rejoins us at the window.

The communicuff blazes to life. Boggs is yelling, "Paylor! Paylor! Abort, abort, abort! It's a trap! Get back and reposition!"

"What just happened?" Paylor shouts back.

"I don't know yet, just stay out of there!" Boggs orders. He adds, "Everyone stay out of that area!" We know he's speaking to us.

Peacekeepers are knocking over the fencing, releasing the children still able to move out of the enclosure. They are shouting frantic orders through their megaphones and have begun firing on Snow's hover craft.

"This can't be right. This doesn't make any sense!" Finnick responds.

Soon medics respond. They flood into the streets attempting to treat the wounded. But these weren't the sterile white uniforms of the Capitol medics. These were District Thirteen uniforms, gray and pressed. The scene that plays out before me is other worldly. It hazes the sides of my vision like a ghastly nightmare I cannot wake up from. Peeta is speaking my name through the fog but it only catches and sails away from me. There she is. Medic bag in hand, running into the broken casualties. Her hair is pulled back into a blond braid. She turns and bends to a very young child. The back of her shirt has strayed out of her uniform making a ducktail. I'm away from the window and my hand slams the door release. I'm so fast no one has time to stop me. I am running full out toward her screaming her name. She can't hear me above the commotion and the screams of the dying. New parachutes sail through the sky landing amidst the broken bodies and the rescuers. "The rescuers" Gail. Beetee. I remember them showing me their idea in special weapons.

"Noooooooo!" I scream.

As if she heard me Prim looks up. She is so surprised and begins to mouth my name as the next round of explosives from the parachutes go off.

She had started running towards me. The explosion threw her forward, I've almost closed the distance. I watch as the deadly flames climb up her legs to her back, igniting her body with fire. My name forms a scream within her throat but it's cut short. I reach her, knocking her to the ground. I throw myself on top of her, trying desperately to smoother her fire with my body. Now we are both burning. Cinna's suit can't keep out the unsuppressed heat and I feel it beginning to melt with my skin. Blackness starts to overtake me, but just before it does, I am aware of someone extinguishing the flames licking at my body... and I'm gone.

I'm floating on waves of morphling. I don't know if I'm more dead than alive. My body is heavy. Slowly I open my eyes. I can't move my head. I can't move my limbs. I can only see the white of the hospital room ceiling and in my peripheral vision bags of liquids being fed into me interveneously.

"Katniss," it's Peeta's voice.

"Prim?" my throat feels scorched.

"She is alive Katniss. You saved her life," he says. He has tears in his eyes and a strangled cry in his voice.

Relieved I say one more word, "thirsty," before I am overcome by sleep.

Days pass. I am awake more regularly now. My body is healing rapidly. I have been covered in a white gauzy material like an ancient mummy. Cinna's amazing Mockingjay uniform saved me from the worst burns possible. I was lucky to escape with only third degree burns. I still needed some skin graphing on my legs and back but not as extensively as it could have been without Cinna's protective gear.

"I saw Prim the same moment as you did. You were running into the worse danger of all and I had to protect you, that's all I knew," Peeta recollected once I got well enough to hear it. "You were just so damn fast! My prosthetic leg could only carry me so quickly. Then I saw the second round of parachutes. I got my coat off and over you as fast as I could to suffocate the flames."

"I should have known it was you," I say. I love how he loved me.

He smiles a small comforting smile, "You had already taken the brunt of the fire off of Prim with your own body." He shakes his head at the memory. "You are the bravest person I've ever known." He recollects his thoughts, "Finnick had run with me and finished dousing Prim. We picked you both up and carried you out of harms way, back into the hovercraft, and got you back here to the hospital at Thirteen as fast as possible. I'm so relieved you are safe. No more adventures for us for awhile. This is all going to be over soon and I just want you to be safe and sound for many, many years," he crawls into the bed next to me. He had been sleeping on a cot every night situated next to my bed. But I was healed enough now to be touched gently. I lay my head on his chest and he holds my hand with his arm closest to me.

Prim hadn't woken up yet. The doctors feel confident that it is only a matter of time. I had gotten to her quickly enough and she was young. Her skin graphs had been much more extensive than mine. Don't worry they would say. But I did.

My mother came to me everyday. Feeding me elixirs and homemade remedies that seemed to be working wonders on my body, even more so than the Capital's magic medicine.

One day, I had a surprise visit from Boggs. I was so glad to see him. I thought of when he told Fluvia and Plutarch not to expect us to be too impressed over Gale's camera ready features because we had just seen Finnick in his underwear. I smiled in spite of myself. It had been a while since the incident in the Capitol and no one had talked about what had happened yet, By the look on his face I knew this wasn't going to be a social call.

"How are you feeling?" He starts.

"What's happening? I know you want to tell me."

He laughs a small laugh, "Coin is in custody."

"You mean Snow," I correct him.

"You heard me right, Katniss. President Coin is in custody," he says slower.

"What happened..." I breathe.

"You knew the orders, you were at the briefing. Only a few handpicked by Coin knew her real intention. It really all revolves around you, Mockingjay. It's no secret you have never been for her, that means you were by all intents and purposes against her. She became increasingly concerned over the power you wielded over the people. Just a broken girl trying to survive and protect those she loved. But you became a symbol for the Districts darkest hours. She feared you above all else. You were in the perfect position to take her power. Sort of like the old fairy tale of Snow White and the Evil Queen."

"Never heard of it," I respond dumbfounded to his claims.

"Anyway, once Peeta was freed from the capitol and was actually healing, something she never banked on, she realized you would be stronger than ever. You and Peeta make an unstoppable team."

It was all starting to sink in.

"Coin wanted to make it look as if Snow had killed his own people, shattering what little allegiance he held and that he murdered the Rebel medics when all they were trying to do was save Capital children's lives, that way all of the people would come running into her arms and she would be Panem's savior. But then there was you. She understood if she succeeded at breaking you where Snow failed... well, that's when she sent in Prim. She underestimated you again."

Now it makes sense. Underage Prim being sent onto the front lines.

"We've resurrected and have been using the laws and treaties of our ancestors, especially the Treaty of the United Nations. Coin has broken numerous human rights laws and agreements according to the statures. When her computers and documents were seized we even found that she was reinstating the Hunger Games using Capitol citizen's children."

"She was just as evil as Snow?" It's more a statement than a question.

"The two of them are going to be executed by lethal injection at the end of the week. Paylor has been placed as President. No more hunger, no more games. Paylor declared the new name of our foundling country "Pacis"."

"What does it mean?" I ask.

"It's from the ancient language of Latin. It means 'Peace'."

"Perfect," Peeta says from the doorway. He comes over sits beside me and lightly holds my bandaged hand. Haymitch is with him.

"When this is all over you both have some choices to make," Haymitch begins. "You can go back to Twelve, work in the restoration or just relax and take some time for yourselves, pick up a hobby or travel. You'll both be paid a government salary for what you're doing and compensation for all you've done. You will always be the Mockingjay, Katniss and both of you the faces of the rebellion. People will always look to you. But just maybe the two of you can have a real life after all." Haymitch smiles a rare smile.

Boggs continues, "After a few months, we'll be calling on you to make a victory tour together, smooth the raw edges of the recovering districts, help them move forward. It will give you both a chance to see places you've never seen before. But Plutarch will fill you in on all that..."

Once they leave Peeta and I have a serious conversation regarding everything each of them said. It's almost beyond belief. Are thoughts are both dark and hopeful as we go to sleep.

I chose not to attend the execution. Both Snow and Coin knew I had won. Knew all of their kingdom had won. I had enough killing to last me for ten lifetimes. Peeta was conflicted at first, but when he really thought about facing Snow again he decides he doesn't need a flesh and blood reminder of what happened to him.

We did however have to do a televised propo with Plutarch and Cressida from my hospital bed, to tell the districts that I endorsed the execution. Paylor, Peeta, Finnick and I went on the air. We read Snow and Coin's crimes to a new nation. I was honored to be able to dub the old Panem, which had meant bread (or lack of it, I thought), Pacis. We declare peace and unity, and the promise of a prosperous future where we could laugh and love and trust in humanity again.

Paylor told me that if Peeta or I ever wanted to consider running for president to let her know, we would have her full support. I sincerely thank her for her vote. At least I knew she wasn't going to try to kill me in my sleep.

But of course Peeta being ever so good with words said we were more interested in just living a mellow existence for awhile, that we have had enough excitement and that maybe we wanted to start a family. That we would of course keep on being the faces of an ever healing new nation but not politicians coming up in government. God, I love that boy!

….

My mother woke me in the middle of the night. Prim was awake. I beg the nurse on staff to let me go see her. Well, I am the Mockingjay.

Peeta wraps his arms around me in an embrace as weighty as a feather. He is always so gentle.

"Katniss, remember she is still recovering. She looks like she's been through a lot," he says.

She has been through a lot. Her father dying, her mother in darkness, her nightmare coming true as her name was read during the reaping, her only sister taking her place and being hauled away into the Games, the bombing of 12, and the war, all leading up to her own personal hell as Coin lured her into a trap. She was forced to grow up way too fast.

A force the tears back, "I understand."

Satisfied with my answer, Peeta and my mother ease me into a wheel chair. I had already been doing recovery exercises in the bed so this was good for me, but it hurt nonetheless. Didn't matter, Prim was awake! That's all I knew! My mind was racing.

We enter her softly lit room. The sight of her was devastating. She looked like a fire mutt. Patches of skin fresh and pink layer her upper body. She must look the same or worse underneath the special sheet covering her.

You will not cry I command myself.

"It doesn't hurt as bad as it looks." Prim says hoarsely.

"Little Duck," I say forcing a smile.

"Katniss, you are okay," she says having been worried for me. "Everyone told me you were, but I didn't believe them." her voice was full of emotion too.

"Where else would I be but watching out for you." I say.

"You saved me."

"I tried, but I don't think either of us would have made it if not for Peeta and Finnick," I respond.

"Oh... Thank you Peeta," she says.

"You're more than welcome, Prim," he smiles. "It was lucky Katniss got to you as fast as she did. She is the one who reached you first."

"No more front lines for you," I scold gently.

"I just wanted to help those kids."

"I know, Little Duck," a disobedient tear escapes. "I know." The dam bursts. Sobs release from my chest. Next thing I know Prim breaks too. We hold each other as carefully as we can, linking our arms and leaning our heads to one anothers. Mother and Peeta leave the room and let us be together.

"Oh, you scared me to death! I thought I was going to lose you," I cry to her.

"I know. I saw you for just a moment. I tried to reach you and then... Katniss, it hurt so bad. When I felt your hands on me, at least I felt almost safe," her sobs grew.

"We are okay now Little Duck. You're going to be perfectly better so soon. All of this will be a horrible memory," I'm trying to comfort her, but I know that once she is well, and the morphling stops its magic, the nightmares will come, even for her and she will have her own demons to fight.

"I know what you're thinking Katniss. But, I'm not twelve years old anymore. I remember how little I was. I know it's only been two years, but I am stronger now. I'm not weak anymore. Now that the laws are changing, I'm going to become a real doctor. I'm going to help people..." she says. "Katniss. I have to be strong... like you to be able to do that. Please, be happy. Don't worry so much about me." it was amazing how she could find the positive in all of this and be so bold for me.

"You're growing too fast, Little Duck," we try each others tears. And for no reason whatsoever we begin to laugh. After a few minutes Peeta and our mother come back in. Tentative smiles on their faces.

"I just spoke with the doctor, Prim. He says you'll be up and around in a few weeks," our mother chimes.

I study the people around the room. My family. My mother, my sister, my Peeta. They make me whole. For the first time in a long time, I feel more hope than ever. Maybe it lay there in their blond hair and blue eyes. I think about my dark haired gray eyed Seam father and know I am so much like him, choosing a blond merchant's son as he had chosen my mother. All of a sudden the future seems possible.

…...

Chapter...

We weren't really saying goodbye. Not with hovercrafts and trains at our disposal now. We could go anywhere we liked, do anything we wanted. There were no more fences, no more boundaries. What was left in the wake of war, was freedom. It feels good.

Finnick and Annie make there way home to District Four. Annie's belly round with life. Finnick is so excited. "You have to come when the baby is born!" he says to Peeta and I. "I'm going to throw the biggest celebration ever!"

Peeta says, "That sounds like a plan. Count us in."

"Yes," I say. "And you can count on me to tell him all kinds of stories about his dad." I tease.

Finnick playfully punches me in the arm. As we walk away though, I am overcome. I turnand I run back, throwing my arms around Finnick's neck. We hug for a length of time.

"Thank you," I whisper. "You held me together when I was crumbling apart."

"Thanks back at you, we held each other together," he says.

"I'll tell your son how brave you were and how lucky he is to have you for a father," will these tears never stop? For someone who doesn't cry, I've been doing an awful lot of it lately.

Gale is staying on in 13. He makes a good soldier. He promises he didn't know what was going to happen that day in the Capitol. I chose to believe him. I couldn't see him ever deliberately hurting Prim. At the same time, I remember when he said that if he had a button that would kill everyone in the Capitol at once, he'd push it without hesitation. We are still friends. He still calls me Catnip. He reminds me that he'll always be here for me. That will change when he finds someone else. Someone who thinks more like he does, than I do.

Prim is staying for further treatment. Then after her full recovery they will be sending her along with my mother to all of the districts medical facilities for training. We promise Prim a traditional toasting and wedding when she is all better and we've come through on the other side of this madness. Maybe in a year from now, when we can plan something beautiful and know where we'll be going home to. I recall her excitement of seeing the wedding dresses that Cinna had made for me. "You will be my maid of honor, right? Cause I think I'll be crazy nervous and if I trip I'll need your help," I say. She giggles. "I'd love to be your maid of honor! That will be so much fun, Katniss! We can pick out dresses and shoes and decorations."

"All right then, it's settled. In one year from now, you and I... and mom and Peeta, will plan our wedding. Deal?" I say.

"Deal" she promises. We seal it with a kiss.

Boggs and Johanna have decided to play a role in a special missions program being launched by Plutarch and President Paylor involving the exploration beyond the districts. They will be seeing who else is out there; outside of the borders of the old Panem, any in hiding from the war who may have no new information, any people on the other continents with whom communications have not happened. Their plan is to find and unify all survivors and discover new lands for settling, commerce, and sustainable natural resources.

Haymitch moves back home in the Victor's Village. He is happy. He drinks more for pleasure now, as opposed to drowning out his thoughts and nightmares. He no longer has to train anyone anymore. No more leading children to their deaths. He is clearer. His eyes smile more often and some of his youthfulness is returned. I'm sure peace has authored his newness. It also helps that he's met a woman. Arianna had been born and raised in Thirteen and is just a few years older than Haymitch. She is intelligent and sensitive. She has green and gold eyes that sparkle when she laughs. Haymitch needs that.

Peeta and I decide to walk among the ashes of Twelve, make our peace and take some time to decide what we want to do. I feel so much stronger than I did the first time I walked through it's destruction, here now with my husband and best friend's hand in mine, our fingers laced together. Their has been a lot of clean up accomplished. Crews already demolished the unsafe buildings, most of which have all been removed, only a few places on the outskirts of town remain. The bodies and the ashes have all been buried. A mass grave with many stone epitaphs have been dug and laid a few miles down a new road that has been carved out of the district to the east after the fence was torn down. It's nice to not have to see the reminder of death everyday, it's equally as nice to have a solid memorial built for those who lost their lives. Peeta and I visit there several times in the month we return. He paints four beautiful stones for his Father, Mother and two brothers. He lays them in a small circle on the corner of the south end of the grave. Together we plant forget-me-nots in the center of the circle. Peeta sobs and I hold him till the storm passes.

A few weeks later when it seems his grief has run it's course I say, "I have somewhere I want to share with you."

"Okay," he says cocking his eyebrow at me. He is so handsome when he does that.

I reach my thumb to his eyebrow and smooth in back down with a smile. "It's the lake. My father used to take me there when I was little. It's where I learned to swim. It's the most beautiful place in the world."

"I'd be honored to share that place you," he says more formally. He knows it is special to me.

"The weather is supposed to be good. It's five miles, so let's pack up and make it a camping trip for a few days," I suggest.

"Sounds good... being lone with you, in the woods by the lake for three days," he smiles. "You know, I've never been camping before Katniss. We weren't supposed to ever cross the electric fence. My dad wasn't as renegade as yours."

I think how incredible my dad was. "My dad would've liked you," I say suddenly. "You would have been good friends."

"Thanks," he says with a thoughtful smile.

"Okay, grab two knapsacks. You pack the food and lots of it. I'll get our clothes, roll up some blankets, and we can assemble the rest of the gear together," I say.

When we finish those chores. We place all of the needed gear on the table so we don't forget anything.

Flashlights, candles, matches, flint and steel, first aid kit, water, cooking pan, emergency flare, knife, hatchet, bow and arrows, and bear mace. "Don't panic," I say when I see his expression over the bear mace. "I've never had to use it once." He rolls his eyes playfully.

The hike down to the lake is enjoyable. The sounds of the woods are soothing. Peeta is having so much fun in this new environment around him. He's like a kid. He jumps up on fallen trees to walk across them, picks a wildflower to place behind my ear, and wades in the stream. But no words capture his expression when we arrive at the lake. The water is still and the sunlight glints on the surface. Wildflowers, tall grasses and cattails sway in the gentle breeze. "This is the most beautiful place I've ever seen," he says. "It was always right here, so close to home and I never knew it." After another breath he adds, "Thank you for sharing it with me." I smile.

"The concrete slab house my dad said was an old hunting place," He and I had put a few things in it for comfort when we came to visit. Not much more than a table and chairs really with a fireplace. Come on," I laugh, grab his hand and pull him towards the lake. We spread a blanket, exhausted from the hike, and lay out a delicious spread. It was so amazingly good to not be so hungry you couldn't think anymore. We always had as much food we wanted. Most people did now that the Capitol was not in power punishing us any more. Peeta lays out cold venison, a gourmet salad of apple, potato, lentils and spinach, and an incredible chocolate tart he created for desert. The day is exquisite. We swim in the cool water, dry ourselves in the sun, watch clouds tumble by, and listen to the leaves dance in the wind. The sunset spills golden orange into the blue sky. Peeta says, "I wish I had brought my paints."

"I did," I stumble to the knapsack and retrieve his small framed artists canvas and his smaller template of paints. He creates a makeshift easel using the knapsack and a few good sticks. Soon he captures the golden orb sinking into the sky. "Beautiful," I say of his artwork as I roll in the grass to lay on my back.

"Yes, you are," he muses of me. I feel his paint brush tickle down my bare midriff to my belly button, where he designs a stunning wildflower.

He leans down and kisses me. The first few stars appear in the twilight above our heads.

"Are you ready to go in and start a fire?" I ask flirtatiously.

"Sure,"

Peeta cleans his brushes and I start a cozy fire in the hearth. We lay out our bedding. Peeta sets his painting on the hearth over the fireplace. We cuddle down into the blankets. He rolls to face me, props his head up on his hand anchored by his elbow and leans in closely. His fingers playfully find their way under the hem of my shirt and he traces the wildflower on my belly with his fingertip.

"There is no place I'd rather be than here with you right now," he says.

We make love. (Lemon Insert)

We wake to the sounds of the deep forest. I had forgotten it had been so long. The songs of birds surround us in a choir of notes, octaves, and harmonies. I had been confined in Thirteen's underground fortress for so long, even with my hunting outings, I had been kept so deep in the earth, like the coal mines. Like a tomb. I realize I am just now coming back to life. I breathe in the cool morning air, as it wafts through the opened windows filling my senses. It's so clean and refreshing. It tastes green, of growing things. The fire has mellowed into smoldering embers. Peeta is sleeping calmly next to me. I am no longer the Mockingjay. I am quite literally the Phoenix, rising from the ashes.

I lay like this for a long time, letting the sensations move through me. Allowing myself to feel. Peeta stirs and his arm comes across my waist, making everything perfect. He presses his chest against my bare back, kissing my neck. "I've never imagined such an amazing place," he says. It makes me smile that I was the one to introduce him to this incredible beauty.

"It feels like home," I agree.

He presses more deeply now. Something gentle changing to something stronger. I match his intensity and push back into him. A light rain begins to dance across the windows and roof. The slight dampness begins to saturate the bedding with moisture. The music of the rain drops is soothing, nourishing. Our breathing becomes part of the chorus of sounds. Tangled in the birds, the rain, the wind in the leaves, crackles of bark igniting in the embers. (Lemon Insert).

As our bodies still and we lay locked together I say, "We could build our own house, right here next to the lake, in the woods. We could wake up to this every morning and watch the sun set on the lake through the trees every evening." My musings turn substantial. I shift to face him and watch the expression in his eyes. "We could. W could gather timber, hire a few contractors and build our own log home."

"Our... own home," he says stressing the word, our.

I continue, "Those buildings in the Victor's Village, they could never be home. They are given through blood and death. Luxurious or not, I don't want to live in them."

"You don't have to talk me into it, Katniss. You had me at "our own home" and that could be any place you'd want it to be."

I just stare at him, "Are you saying yes?"

"Yes, I'm saying yes. I had that feeling of home when I put my painting on the hearth," he offers.

I tackle him into a bear hug, overjoyed.

Peeta goes right to work to make it a reality. In the next week he hires a contractor to make a one lane dirt drive to the house site. Peeta divides his time between baking and painting and needs easier access when a five mile hike isn't practical. We purchase a couple of off road motorbikes to make the trek. In less than six months the old hunting cabin becomes a rustic log cabin with three floors, a vaulted ceiling, full walled picture windows, wrap around front porch, and back deck. It has ten rooms including Peeta's art studio overlooking the lake and a charming guest bedroom for visitors.

Within a year's time, the world transforms around us. I have helped to bring back the Hob. Greasy Sae sets up an eat in or take out diner, tradesmen, craftspersons, and artisans offer their goods and wares, hunters their game. It is not so rough as it had been before, but it still holds the air of a loud, rowdy, marketplace. The town square becomes picturesque. I'm proud Peeta and I were part of the design team. A spacious beautiful expanse of green consumes what used to be the concrete of the square. Their is a playground in the north corner, benches to rest on, picnic tables, and an ornate gazebo in the center. We plant young flowering trees of apple and cherry, and sturdy shade trees of maple and oak. The cold black memories of the Reapings in the square, now transfigured into things that will grow with hope and newness. A future. Peeta and I have rebuilt the bakery claiming about half the block. We create in essence two grand shops. On one side the town's bakery. Of course he has orders from even the most remote districts to fill now he is a celebrity, everyone wants his products. He hires a team of bakers and pastry chefs and manages the entire thing. He still likes to decorate the elegant cakes placing them in the shops huge front picture window for the townspeople, especially the kids. The other shop is Peeta's art gallery. It is incredible. He displays his paintings and sells them. He brings to life everything: the games, the war, the forest, the ocean, the celebrities we are friends with like Finnick, Haymitch, Plutarch, and Johanna. His scenes are varied and brilliant. He's very successful. The town hall is his tour d' force and is a main attraction for the tourists that pour in on a regular basis to Twelve, now called Concordia-it's another one of those Latin words, it means harmony. Surrounding the main room with its vaulted glass dome ceiling and etched marble floors designed with Panem's timeline, is a full scale, life-sized mural encompassing the entire circumference of the circular rooms of the walls. The natural sun light from the glass dome brings every scene to life. Peeta was commissioned to design and paint it. Who would be better really? It is remarkable. Breathtaking. The first panel is a painting of me standing tall in the center of the old square taking Prim's place during the Reaping. Where it all started. Peeta recalls every detail down to my elaborately braided hair and my mother's blue dress. He paints the scenes he wants history to remember: Peeta himself embracing his father in a final goodbye-tears streaming down their faces, a discussion with Haymitch, Peeta's deceptive alliance with the Careers, me treed with the burn on my leg, Rue covered in flowers, Peeta's battle with Cato, our kiss in the cave, Thresh saving me from Clove, our positions at the top of the Cornucopia-with the mutts surrounding us, Peeta marking the X onto Cato's hand, and my arrow in mid-flight, our moments with the berries, that pivotal, subversive instant, that set fire to all the districts. The paintings continue to show my mockingjay token that became the symbol of the Rebellion, the uprisings in the Districts, the chronicles of the Quell-including Cinna and I in his wedding dress design transforming into the winged mockingjay, the war-Finnick with his trident, Haymitch with his sarcastic smile and a conspiring glint in his eyes plotting with Plutarch, Gale rescuing citizens of Twelve as it was bombed, a battle scene of me in Eight taking down the Capitol's hovercraft with my explosive tip arrow, Boggs and Paylor shouting into their communicuffs, the parachutes descending into the capitol-my rescuing Prim then Peeta and Finnick rescuing us, the new colorful flag of Pacis, and the rebuilding of Twelve. It's a lot of me, but they are all true, and it is so tastefully done, I could never object. It is our history. Some days I glide my finger tips across the cold pictures and realize the harshness of the memories are fading into the past. New moments are burying them further down and away. I'm glad for it.

My belly holds the future-a living testament of Peeta's and my love and survival. She kicks in the night. I lay Peeta's hand on my tummy over her foot.

"She's feisty like you," he smiles.

"She'll have blue eyes like you," I smile back. He spreads both his hands wide over my belly, his fingers stretch to take in the movement of her tumbling within me. I look at his circular golden wedding band engraved with one simple word, Always.

We nuzzled into one another on the loveseat, looking out the picture windows connecting with the beauty all around us. I laugh, Peeta looks up to meet my eyes. We both begin laughing together. It's infused with so much love and so much joy. We are home. At last.


End file.
